


Trying to catch a glimpse of you

by goodbyelover



Category: GOT7
Genre: Almost Kiss, Alternate Universe - College/University, College Parties, First Meetings, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Jackson Wang is a good friend and a good partier, Jinyoung-Centric, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Weed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:08:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25009717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodbyelover/pseuds/goodbyelover
Summary: Jinyoung only sees Mark when he's high.(Or: Jinyoung maybe needs to reevaluate his life choices, but it's easier to blame that on Jackson.)
Relationships: Park Jinyoung/Mark Tuan
Comments: 12
Kudos: 52





	Trying to catch a glimpse of you

**Author's Note:**

> It feels so good to have finished writing this. The first 3 paragraphs have literally existed for like 3 years - i don't even know why, but this was inspired by the music video for Look when it released? Past me, what were we doing.

Jinyoung first saw him at one of Jackson’s parties – caught his first glimpse through the press of bodies, a small flash that would remain imprinted in his memories, dreamlike and hazy. Jinyoung wouldn’t remember much else, not Jackson’s bass-heavy playlist, nor the man himself DJ-ing shirtless and jacked – like a king on a throne, or a lover with a fury.

Jinyoung wouldn’t remember the way hungry eyes watched him because hungrier mouths could not have him. He wouldn’t even remember Yugyeom’s gentle fussing, as pleasant as it normally was. 

All there was to remember was  _ him _ .

A boy. 

A boy with dusky hair and eyes of starlight, with catlike features and pouting lips; beautiful and distant and fleeting. All it took was a glimpse before he vanished among the warm bodies, and Jinyoung was never the same again.

Jinyoung was also high as a kite when he first saw him. 

Like... Really,  _ really _ high. 

***

“He was hot as fuck,” Jinyoung said, a few days later as he tried to wrangle a name or a number out of Jackson over lunch, because he couldn’t get that boy out of his head, the memory dim but tantalizing.   
  
“That doesn’t tell me much,” Jackson said with a long suffering expression. “All my friends are hot. Have you seen Jooheon? Namjoon? Youngjae?” This was enough to distract Jackson as he made a strangled noise that is either wistful or lustful and Jinyoung didn’t want to parse the difference. Youngjae was a mistake waiting to happen to Jackson, but Jinyoung wasn’t going to be the one to tell him that. Jackson was his own man.

“He's got… dark hair?” Jinyoung tried, but the look Jackson gave him was something deeper than mere disappointment. “Oh, shut up.” 

“I didn’t say anything!”

The problem was that Jinyoung usually didn’t struggle with his words. He prided himself in his ability to finesse and wrangle; in how to pick and choose and extract an impeccable phrase or the perfect syllables. But in spite of all his skills, he found that any attempt he made at trying to describe this boy, he foundered, his tongue tying up in knots that left him clumsy.

They finished the rest of lunch in relative silence before Jackson hopped up, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “It's Junmyeon’s birthday this weekend. You were planning on coming anyway, right? Maybe he’ll be there.”

“True,” Jinyoung said, perking up at the thought. He’d absolutely planned on bailing, but he could swing by, just to see if he can spot this mystery boy. Junmyeon and Jackson shared half the school in terms of friends, after all.

***

He hadn’t  _ meant _ to do anything. Just wish Junmyeon happy birthday, take a wander around, scope out the crowds, and bow out so he could be back in bed before ten.

_ Instead _ , he ran into Wonpil, who had an arm wrapped around Jae, who had a half smoked joint in his hand. 

“Here,” Jae said, giggling and half slumped on Wonpi’s shoulder and it was stupid because they were normally on the verge of murdering each other. “Can you take this? I think… I’m gonna be busy.”

“ _ Ew, _ ” Jinyoung had said emphatically as they left him behind - but he still took the joint and smoked the rest of it in the backyard, doing his best not to think about the two of them stumbling towards the nearest bathroom.

The backyard was quieter, all hushed conversations over beers and the softened blare of house music through closed doors to keep the bugs out. It was more Jinyoung’s pace, and even when the butt of the joint started to die, he lingered, letting the high sink deep into his bones while he carefully licked the back and front of every single tooth in his mouth.

“Hey,” someone said over his shoulder, and Jinyoung slowly turned with hazy curiosity, feeling his brain slosh with the sluggish momentum. 

It was him, Jinyoung’s mystery boy. Well, not  _ Jinyoung’s _ , but definitely the mystery boy, only he was so much closer this time. Immediately Jinyoung became very intensely aware of  _ everything  _ – of how long his lashes were, the way his eyes were smudged black with eyeliner, the easy quirk of his lips, and the glittering jewelry studding the crest of his ear.

It was all quite overwhelming, but in the way that made Jinyoung want to write poems, write  _ sonnets _ . Jinyoung wanted to find aged parchment and feather quills and pots of ink, just so he could write an epic epistle dedicated to this sharp cut of this guy’s canines.

“You okay there?” 

It took those words for Jinyoung to realize that he hadn’t actually said anything and had instead just turned and stared in dead silence. Now his mystery boy’s expression had morphed to that of concern, brows gently furrowed.

He meant to say ‘I’m totally fine’, but also ‘I’m super high’, but what comes out is some garbled mixture of the two. 

“... Suuuuure,” the guy said slowly, the drawn out word full of doubt as he gestured towards the patio’s ledge. “Maybe you should, y’know, sit down.” 

“Y… eah,” Jinyoung said, and slowly sank down, licking his teeth very carefully again, still acutely aware of the press of his brain against the back of his eyeballs and also how fucking beautiful this guy’s hands were. 

His knees cracked as he settled and he winced. Why had he spent so much time standing? Mistakes had been made.

“Take it easy, bro,” the guy said, and Jinyoung meant to grab his hand - Jinyoung could tell him the haiku that had just formed about his nose or at least ask for his name, but there was no moving fast enough when he was like this and then his mystery boy wasn’t there at all, the space next to Jinyoung quiet and full of disappointment.

***

“Why didn’t you tell me you were there! I didn’t even see you!” Jackson hollered, loud enough that other students on the green turned towards them as Jinyoung swatted his arm hard.

It was the next day and Jinyoung had hit Jackson up again, hoping that maybe this time Jackson had figured it out. Except there was a problem in that Jackson and Junmyeon had a stupidly large amount of overlap in friends, and Jackson had listed at least twenty names of people Jinyoung absolutely didn’t know and after searching through multiple instagrams, Jinyoung had given up.

“I suppose this might be for the best,” Jinyoung said mournfully. “I bet he thinks I’m really gross after last night.”

“Jinyoung, I have entered your room on multiple occasions,” Jackson said, looking at him gravely. “You  _ are _ gross.”

Jinyoung shoved Jackson hard enough to get grass-stains on his expensive sneakers and didn’t feel even a bit sorry about it.

***

At some point, Jinyoung was going to have to examine how much he partied. It wasn’t even his  _ thing _ but  the next weekend had come, and sure enough, Jinyoung was at another house party. He wasn’t even sure whose party it was, just that Sungjin had picked him and Wonpil up and drove them twenty minutes to a much nicer area of town, where mansions began sprawling out with fancy fountains and terraces and more rooms than were reasonable for a home to have.

“Hyung, come join us!” Yugyeom yelled from outside, where he and the other freshmen were horsing around in the pool. Jinyoung watched fondly as Jungkook and Yugyeom hoisted Bambam easily into the air, flinging him into the deep end while the boy screamed his head off, but he still waved their attention away. He hadn’t dressed for those kinds of antics with his skinniest skinny jeans and white button up.

Instead, he got up to wander into the kitchen, poking at the various opened and spilling bags of trinkety junk food, searching for something to sate his wandering interests.

“Hey,” Jackson said, because of course Jackson was here. (Ah yes, Jinyoung should just blame Jackson for his partying habits. Jackson’s fault. All Jackson, none Jinyoung.) “Hyunwoo brought some pretty badass brownies in, I snagged one for you.” 

“Thanks, babe,” Jinyoung said, just because he knew the pet name would make Jackson shriek, and Jackson didn’t disappoint, filling the kitchen with such  _ noise _ even as he shoved the brownie into Jinyoung’s hands and then fled, yelling about how Jinyoung was being ‘a saucy wench’.

It turned out to be a pretty good brownie.

Afterward, Jinyoung took to wandering the halls of the house - god, they felt like they were endless when he was like this. The house was already huge, but with Jinyoung as baked as he was, it became all the more opulent in its own infinity. 

Most of the doors upstairs were open and Jinyoung peered in to examine each and every one of them. For such a roaring house party, there was a surprising amount of bedrooms that were completely devoid of wildly carnal young adults, and when he did finally find one with a real human being, it was just a single boy reading a book while curled up on a day-bed. One with a  _ very _ familiar face.

Fuck it, if Jinyoung’s mystery boy didn’t look absolutely the most beautiful in this moment, with soft and touseled hair, and his lips pursed in a way that made him all the more charming. Jinyoung maybe felt untethered as he watched the way the boy’s fingers flicked from page to page.

With that, Jinyoung was staring again. He seemed to be doing that an awful lot lately.

Eventually, he coughed to break the silence, and the boy’s gaze flew up from his book - Jinyoung did hate to interrupt the sacred activity of reading, he just thought he should stop staring. 

“Hey there,” the boy said, an amused smile lighting up his face, along with something more significant, something that sent absolute fireworks off in Jinyoung’s brain sludge. 

Recognition. 

He  _ remembered _ Jinyoung.

“Hey,” Jinyoung said, because he was supremely eloquent when he was high. “What’s that?” 

The boy glanced around before holding up the book for Jinyoung’s consideration. “It’s a translation of Antigone. I’m taking Classics this semester.” 

Jinyoung ambled over to the bed, gently plucking the book from the boy’s hands. “I preferred the bigger epics,” he said as he sat down, staring down at the battered pages. Must be a library copy. It took him maybe thirty seconds to admit: “I can’t read any of this right now.”

Saying that made the boy grin so Jinyoung felt it was worth it. A smile made him screw his face up, made that ethereal charm drop, something more solid and tangible and joyful left in its stead.

There were so many things Jinyoung wanted to do in that moment. He wanted to ask what this boy liked best about classics and what other classes was he taking? What was his name? How did he like his eggs in the morning?

Instead, he leaned forward to press a kiss to that pretty, pretty cheekbone.

It made the boy laugh, a sharp, startled noise as he turned to Jinyoung, their noses brushing as he peered up at Jinyoung, doe eyed and amused. 

“You’re so pretty,” Jinyoung told him with an adoring sigh.

“You’re not doing too bad yourself,” the boy said, and his eyes were still crinkled so Jinyoung was going to count that as a victory. Still, when Jinyoung tried to give him a proper kiss, those pretty fingers came up to press against Jinyoung’s lips, halting him in action. “Maybe this isn’t the best time for that, no?”

Jinyoung pouted and kissed his fingertips instead, earning himself another laugh. He couldn’t be fussed to try again and settled for handing the book back over and dropping his head on the boy’s shoulder, which was too bony to actually be comfortable, but Jinyoung was content anyway.

He meant to ask the boy to read to him, but couldn’t quite manage, easily distracted by the rise and fall of the boy’s breathing. So rhythmic, so soothing, it reminded Jinyoung of falling asleep as a child during late nights with his sisters.

The next thing Jinyoung knew, Wonpil was shaking him awake from where he was sprawled on the bed, head muzzy and mouth dry as the desert, and the boy with midnight hair and starlit eyes was nowhere to be seen.

***

“I didn’t see you after the kitchen, man, I’m sorry,” Jackson said, gently rubbing circles over Jinyoung’s back the next day, because Jinyoung couldn’t leave it be, not after so many repetitions of the same cycle. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Jinyoung grumbled, rubbing at his temples in glum irritation.

“He can’t be too far away if you’ve run into him this many times, yeah?” Jackson said, trying to be helpful.

Jinyoung considered this for a moment. “Maybe…” he began and then stalled out. He wasn’t going to tell Jackson this - didn’t really want to voice the thought aloud, but he was beginning to wonder if he was just hallucinating the boy. He’d never had a particularly strong reaction to weed prior to this string of incidents, but it just felt too fucking weird that it had happened three times in a row. Maybe Jinyoung had grown more sensitive due to the stress of finals approaching.

Maybe Jinyoung really was seeing someone who wasn’t actually there.

“Nevermind,” he muttered finally, ducking his head down to stare at his phone instead, scrolling mindless, eyes not really focused on the screen. 

Jackson let him be, knowing that if he pressed too hard, Jinyoung got cagey and withdrawn. It left Jinyoung to his own thoughts, however negative they were, and meant that he was only half paying attention when Jackson perked up and began waving. He didn’t even look up as his friend did so - Jackson knew and loved half the campus, Jinyoung usually just let it wash over him.

“I have your jacket, dude,” Jackson said.

“Thanks,” someone said as they gently bumped shoulders with Jinyoung. “You’re looking better today.” The voice was low, rich, and so familiar - Jinyoung’s head whipping up so fast that his teeth clacked harshly together.

Sure enough, Jinyoung’s mystery boy stood there, with dusky hair and eyes of starlight and a smile so playful it made Jinyoung’s heart stutter wildly in his chest.

“You!” Jinyoung gasped.

“Me?” the boy asked, quizzically. 

“You?” Jackson asked, equally lost, looking from the boy to Jinyoung and back again, before several gears clicked into place and he pointed to the boy emphatically. “You!” 

“Me,” the boy agreed, brows still quirked in confusion.

“Holy shit,” Jackson said, looking between the two of them again. “Holy  _ shit _ . I - whoa… how have you two  _ not _ met? Jinyoung, this is Mark. Mark, this is Jinyoung, he’s the Park Puppy to my Wang Puppy.”

“You really don’t have to say it like that,” Jinyoung said hurriedly, trying to subtly trod on Jackson’s foot. It felt like a victory to finally have a name though, and though Jinyoung didn’t say it aloud, he tested it on his tongue. Mark. Mark. Mark.

“It’s nice to meet you properly,” Mark said, and he held his hand out for a fist bump that Jinyoung managed to return without looking  _ too _ clumsy. “Thanks for keeping my jacket safe,” Mark added to Jackson, tugging on the bomber jacket that Jackson produced from his backpack.

“Anything for you, Markachu,” Jackson cooed, pausing before adding more judgmentally. “Why are you  _ studying _ during parties, my dude?”

There was clear grimace when Mark answered. “I was just avoiding Eric for a bit, shut up.” He then turned to Jinyoung and smiled. He looked nervous now, more out of his element in the middle of campus, compared to the near quixoticity he’d exuded all the times before. 

It was fucking adorable. 

“I’m glad you’re doing okay, you were a little out of it yesterday,” Mark said.

“Yeah… uhh…” Jinyoung cleared his throat, tried to draw his shoulders back just a bit more, straight his posture so he didn’t look like some sort of slouchy heathen. “Thanks. I’m sure that must have been a bit annoying.”

“Hey, it’s fine, bro. Anytime” But Mark was already checking his phone, looking towards the library where it sat behind them all, and Jinyoung realized this conversation was already coming to an end, and he hadn’t even gotten past two sentences.

“You know,” Jackson said as he threw an arm around Jinyoung’s shoulder, his tone of voice absolutely screaming ‘Hello my name is Jackson Wang from China and I am Scheming a Scheme™️’. “Jinyoung, Mark and I usually go bowling Wednesday nights. Wanna join us next time?”

It was a lifeline and Jackson was practically wrapping it around Jinyoung’s wrist with a bow. 

“That’d be fun,” Mark agreed, meeting Jinyoung’s gaze with a warm smile, and the reply felt so plainly sincere that it was hook, line, and sinker for Jinyoung without a second thought.

“Yeah,” he said, finally smiling as well, unable to look away from Mark. He was, at best, a shit bowler and this was probably going to make him look like a fool, but so be it. Wednesday couldn’t come soon enough. “Yeah, I’d love to.”


End file.
